


before the full moon rises

by toskas



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate universe - Mafia, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, M/M, Past Character Death, Psychological Trauma, a lot of unnecessary angst lol sorry, all relationships except 2jae are platonic, also this starts off lighthearted, and then it all goes downhill in the blink of an eye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toskas/pseuds/toskas
Summary: “You kidnapped me and nearly killed me, all because your son has a crush on me?? Why couldn't he had just asked me out normally?!”“He's a shy kid!!”In which Jaebum is the son of a mafia boss, Mark is Overprotective™, and Youngjae just wanted to buy some dog food.





	1. Chapter 1

Choi Youngjae likes to believe that he is a good person. He takes care of the children and elderly in his neighborhood, feeds any strays he happens to come across, and properly tends to his flowers. He’s never late to class or work, and he treats everyone — even those creepy customers that sometimes hit on him — kindly. He always spares some money to donate to charities, and takes Mark — his best friend of 8 years and housemate of 5 years — out on expensive dinners once every month as a sign of gratitude for everything the older has done for him. So, yeah, Choi Youngjae is a pretty damn good person. Which is why he isn’t quite sure what wrongdoing he’s committed in order to be placed in his current position.

 

He just wanted to buy some dog food, for fucks sake, not get threatened and manhandled by a group of men in suits (what kind of criminals even wear such fancy outfits?), sedated, and then literally tossed into the backseat of some vehicle (he supposes it’s better than being shoved in the trunk). By the time the sedative wore off, he was no longer in the car. A blindfold censored his vision and rope bound his limbs to — what he assumed to be — a chair.

 

He sighs, “Mark-hyung’s gonna kill me.”

 

“Is that really the first thing you think of after being kidnapped?” Youngjae startles at the sound of another voice, his chair nearly tipping backwards. “Easy there,” the voice is closer now - the person catching Youngjae before he can hit the ground. “ _I’ll_ be the one killed if there’s so much as a scratch on you.”

 

“You guys literally held a knife to my throat when I refused to cooperate earlier.” Despite the given situation, Youngjae can’t help the irritation dripping from his tone.

 

“We weren’t going to actually do anything!” the voice sounds childishly defensive, “I know I came really close to actually cutting you, but I was really nervous, okay?!”

 

“What even—”

 

“Wang, that’s quite enough,” a second voice speaks up, “Undo his blindfold and leave.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Youngjae feels hands on the back of his head, fumbling with the knotted fabric. It takes nearly 30 seconds for the blindfold to finally come off, and ‘Wang’ mumbles an apology before scurrying out of the room. A cough snaps Youngjae’s attention away from the door, having forgotten that there was still another person with him.

 

“I hope you’re not too upset with our… _actions_ ,” the man says, “You see, my son has had his eye on you for quite a while, and I grew tiresome of watching him losing his head over such a petty reason. He’s usually a tenacious one but no matter how much I urged him to talk to you, he always refused. So... here we are now.”

 

A silence fall overs the two as Youngjae lets the words sink in, his confused expression slowly morphing into that of vexation. “You kidnapped me and nearly killed me, all because your son has a crush on me?? Why couldn't he had just asked me out normally?!”

 

“He's a shy kid!!”

 

“That doesn’t excuse—”

 

“I was informed that you wanted to see me, sir?” Youngjae freezes, words dying off as recognition sparks within him.

 

“Ah, son! No need for formalities - come, come.”

 

Youngjae hesitantly turns towards the said son, heart thumping in his chest. _No way. It can’t be him. It can’t be him, it can’t be him, it can’t be—_ “Jaebum?!” he all but screeches as he comes face to face with his classmate.

 

“Youngjae?!” Jaebum reels backs, “Dad, what the hell?! I told you not to do anything to him!”

 

The man — _Mr. Im —_ raises his hands in defense, “We didn’t _do_ anything to him, really. All we did was bring him here with a bit of… _force_.”

 

“Why would you even—”

 

“I’m sorry, but can you please untie me already? I can feel my circulation cutting off, and I don’t think it would be pleasant for any of us if I died right now.” Jaebum turns his attention back to Youngjae, his entire face a flaming red. “Yeah, uh, of course.” He unties the ropes with obvious experience, the knots coming undone in only a few seconds. But the tremble in his fingers does not go unnoticed.

 

“I’m really sorry about all of this,” Jaebum says, voice jittery, “I’ll completely understand if you don’t want to be associated with me anymore or, uh, sue me or something.”

 

Youngjae frowns, rubbing at his rope burns. He _could_ sue them and expose whatever the hell they’re running, but a small, irrational part of him wants to give Jaebum a chance despite everything that’s happened. (He also kind of wants to pinch Jaebum’s cheeks because _wow_ how can a person be so _cute_ ?) “Can I just call Mark-hyung? _He’s_ the one you need to worry about, honestly.” he finally asks.

 

“Of course,” Jaebum heaves a sigh of relief as his father hands over Youngjae’s phone.

 

Mark picks up before the first ring can even finish, his concerned voice booming through the speaker. Youngjae winces, holding the phone away from his ear. “Choi Youngjae, where in the world are you?! I tried contacting you, asked literally every single person you know if they’ve seen you, and searched within a three-mile radius from our house for you!!!”

 

“Well, I’m calling you now, aren’t I?”

 

“Youngjae!!”

 

“Right, I guess this isn’t the appropriate time to joke around. I’m fine, hyung. Really. I’ll be home soon, so just try to calm down, alright?”

“Calm down? _Calm down?!_ Young man, you better have a damn good reason for disappearing for nearly four hours! I almost went into cardiac arrest! I swear, I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again—”

 

“Okay, okay! You can lecture me all you want once I’m back home, but I really have to go. Bye, hyung! Love ya!”

 

“You _brat_ —” Youngjae quickly hangs up before Mark can say anything else. Looking back up at Jaebum and his father, he gives them a sympathetic smile.

 

“I think you’ll have more than a lawsuit to worry about once I explain all of this to him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaebum has never felt intimidated or fearful once in his entire life. But, as he stands here at the receiving end of Mark’s murderous glare, Jaebum has never felt more terrified in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of poorly written :/ I apologize.

“... and that's basically what happened.” Youngjae finishes, leaning back onto the couch, “It's not really a big deal, though.”

 

“Not a big deal?!” Mark’s voice is ear-piercingly high, “Youngjae, you are _way_ too casual about this! I don’t understand why you aren’t more shaken up! You almost got your _throat slit open!_ ”

 

“I’m not dead, though, am I? Besides, they weren't going to _purposely_ harm me or anything, so…” Youngjae trails off, shrugging his shoulders. It wasn’t like he would have even cared if he actually did get hurt or killed anyway. He’s lived a somewhat long and satisfying enough life.

 

Mark huffs, and Youngjae swear he can see smoke coming out of the older’s ears. “I would like to meet this _Im Jaebum_ you speak of.” Mark says, distaste clear in his tone and expression as the name rolls off his tongue.

 

“Come on, hyung, don’t be like that — he didn’t _want_ me to be kidnapped in the first place. Plus, he seems like an okay guy.”

 

“ _I’ll_ be the judge of that, mister. Now, I’ve already come up with a plan—”

 

“A plan for wha—”

 

“—but it’ll only work if you have his number, or some other form of contacting him. I mean, we _could_ just wait until you can talk to him face-to-face but it’s a _long_ time before you two have classes together again.”

 

Youngjae can’t help but laugh at his hyung’s impatience, “You know it’s literally only two days until I see him in class, right?”

 

“ _Exactly_ , that’s a long time! Anything could happen! You, of all people, should understand from experience—” Mark cuts himself off, hand slapping over his own mouth as the amusement drops from Youngjae’s expression. “Oh, I — ‘Jae, I didn’t mean—”

 

“I know,” Youngjae interrupts, voice barely over a whisper. There’s a slight pause before Youngjae clears his throat, “Anyway, what’s the plan? I’ve already got Jaebum’s number, so you can cross that off the list.” He sends Mark (what he hopes is) a bright smile, which manages to calm the older - the mischievous glint slowly returning to his eyes.

 

“ _Well…_ ”

 

-

 

Jaebum has never felt intimidated or fearful once in his entire life. Not when he was given the title of the heir to mafia and introduced to the business at the mere age of 12, not when he held his first gun at 15, not when blood stained his hands and spirits haunted his dreams. But, as he stands here at the receiving end of Mark’s murderous glare, Jaebum has never felt more terrified in his entire life.

 

“U-um… is he… your bodyguard, or something?”

 

“Or something.” Youngjae smiles. “But, more importantly,” he gestures towards the restaurant, “Are we going inside any time soon, or are we going to stand out here all day?”

 

Jaebum flushes, “Right! I reserved a table for us but, uh,” his eyes flicker to Mark, before settling back on Youngjae, “I wasn’t quite expecting a plus one to the event.”

 

“Oh,” Youngjae feigns disappointment, shoulders drooping. “I guess I should have told you, I’m sorry. You’re not upset, right?”

 

“No, no, no!” Jaebum frantically waves his hands, “I can just get another table — or, are you more of a booth person?”

 

“Either one is f—” Youngjae begins, “Booth,” Mark interrupts, “He prefers booths. Also, if you ever ask for his opinion for something, you’ll have to keep in mind that he won’t answer honestly ninety percent of the time.”

 

“Hyung!” Youngjae lightly (read: _painfully_ ) smacks Mark’s chest, before turning back to Jaebum. “Don’t mind him. Let’s just head in, shall we?”

 

Jaebum nods, leading the way through the restaurant towards — what appears to be — a private dining area. Youngjae wordlessly walks by Jaebum’s side while Mark trails slightly behind them, clutching the sore part of his chest and muttering something along the lines of, “Kids these days,” and “No respect for their elders.”

 

-

 

Dinner, surprisingly, goes smoothly. There are a few moments of awkward silence as well as vulgar comments from Mark every 10 minutes but, other than that, the trio moderately gets along and proceed to make small talk as the evening goes on. It isn't until night falls and the outside world is covered in darkness, do they decide to wrap it up. Youngjae excuses himself to restroom, leaving the other two alone.

 

Jaebum turns to Mark, only to be met with the older’s harsh gaze. “Tell me, Jaebum,” he says calmly, “When did you first start liking Youngjae, and why?”

 

“Oh?” Jaebum chuckles nervously, “I wasn't aware this was an interview,” he jokes. Mark, however, doesn't so much as even blink. Gulping, Jaebum decides to answer seriously if he wanted to stay alive.

 

“I think—,” he begins, “—no, _I know_ I’ve always liked him, but I never really realized it until about five months ago. It just kind of happened? The realization, I mean. He had missed morning classes, and alarms started ringing in my head because Youngjae _never_ misses classes, you know? He’s never even shown up _late_ for class the past two years that I’ve known him. So why would he one day not show up?

 

I felt this — this _panic_ rise within me and I couldn't really understand why. Maybe it was because I was so used to him being there? Yeah. I just was so used to hearing him laugh and seeing him smile as if he didn't have a single care in the world.” Jaebum let out a shaky breath, “And it brought me comfort. His mere _presence_ brought me comfort and I hadn't realized it until the moment he was gone and all these horrible scenarios were playing in my head.

 

That's when it clicked — that I liked him. And in that moment I thought _, oh my god. Oh my god, I might possibly even be in love with this guy and he could be dead for all I know right now_. But he wasn't, obviously. He just casually waltzed into class and sat down like everything was normal. Seeing him safe and intact caused the crushing weight of anxiety swirling in me to disperse, and I suddenly felt like I could breathe again.” Jaebum paused, scanning Mark’s face for the slightest hint of reaction. “That - that’s pretty much it,” he concluded, “I’m sure Youngjae already told you but, I’ve never really interacted with him much.”

 

Mark lays his hands on the table, slowly leaning forwards as Jaebum automatically shrinks back, trying to disappear into the cushion of the booth. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Mark finally opens his mouth, and Jaebum braces himself for the worst.

 

“ _Dude_ ,” Mark wheezes, “You are so fucking _whipped_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That small moment in the beginning with Mark saying, "You, of all people, should know from experience--" was my attempt of hinting at Youngjae's past lol. Have fun trying to figure out what it means.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Youngjae looks absolutely ethereal illuminated by the spotlight — voice as powerful as his piano playing and filled with heart-wrenching emotion — and Jaebum’s soul has officially left his body.

Jaebum blinks once, twice, trice. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out because _what the hell_ was he supposed to even say? A strangled “Wh— _what?”_ is all he can manage, but his voice cracks at even just that, and Mark’s high-pitched laughter fills the room.

 

Youngjae suddenly reappears beside the table, a fond smile on his face. “Did I miss something?”

 

Mark gives a final snort of laughter, replying to the other before Jaebum can even fully comprehend the question. “Five out of ten,” he says. Youngjae narrows his eyes, and Jaebum can only watch in confusion as Mark seems to wither. “ _Fine._ Seven and a half out of ten. Are you happy now?”

 

“Very,” Youngjae grins, before turning to Jaebum. “Oh, and by the way, I already paid for the check.”

 

“That's fine— wait, _what?!_ This was supposed to be an apology dinner for what happened yesterday! I thought we already settled that I would be paying?!” Jaebum’s tone is borderline whiny, and Youngjae bites back the urge to coo at him.

 

“That's another thing to keep in mind,” Mark suddenly says, “He never let’s anyone pay for him. no matter what. I remember the last time I paid for him, and he literally threatened the cashier to take his money and give back mine— _OW,_ ” he lets out a yelp as Youngjae punches him for the second time that night. “I'm going to report you to cops if you keep on hitting me!!”

 

-

 

“I still can't believe you paid for the entire dinner,” Jaebum grumbles once they're out of the restaurant. “At least let me pay you back.”

 

“I'm not going to let you _actually_ pay me back with like, money—”

 

“Typical.” Mark comments, earning a glare from Youngjae. “ _But_ ,” the youngest continues, “I work part-time at a place called _Eat Jin._ You could drop by sometime, and I'll take that as compensation.”

 

“Is this just a ploy to reel in more business?” Jaebum asks.

 

“Maybe. But you won’t say no, right?” Youngjae smiles cheekily, and Jaebum can't even _pretend_ to be annoyed as he feels his resolve crumbling.

 

“What's the address?”

 

-

 

It takes nine days (and many minatory text messages from Mark) for Jaebum to finally stop avoiding Youngjae, and muster up the courage to go to _Eat Jin._ It isn’t until he's standing in front of the establishment, that he realizes why the name sounds so familiar.

 

 _Eat Jin_ is one of, if not _the_ most well-known and high-quality restaurants in the entirety of Seoul. Jaebum isn't exactly sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He inhales deeply, swinging the door open and steeling himself for whatever may be waiting on the other side. Almost immediately, his eyesight is assaulted by bright lights as a chorus of voices greet him. He replies with a polite smile, still slightly frazzled as his eyes search the crowd.

 

“Looking for someone?” Jaebum squeaks, nearly giving himself whiplash as he spins around. Youngjae just chuckles, “Come on, let’s get you seated.” He gently grabs Jaebum’s hand, and it takes all of the older’s willpower to not scream right then and there. The moment doesn't last long, as Youngjae pulls away and gestures at the table labeled ‘ _Im_ _Jaebum_ ’ in silver lettering—food already set in place.

 

Jaebum robotically sits down, about to ask what all of this is about, but Youngjae slips away before he can even open his mouth. He frowns, sipping a glass of water as the lights begin to dim down, and a spotlight shines on the small stage in the middle of the room. He pauses, wondering how in the _world_ he didn't see it before. Then, an all-too-familiar figure steps up and Jaebum chokes, the glass in his hand nearly slipping out of his grasp. “What fu—”

 

“I apologize for the delay,” Youngjae’s voice is low and soothing, and Jaebum absentmindedly wonders if the younger has ever considered delving into world of ASMR. “As always, I will be performing seven pieces that have been requested but, to make up for lost time, I will also be including a surprise at the end. I hope you will all enjoy it.” Curious murmurs erupt within the crowd at the mention of a surprise as Youngjae settles down at the piano.

 

Jaebum gapes, watching as Youngjae’s fingers glide effortlessly across the keys—each note resonating and powerful despite the almost sorrowful tune of the [ song ](https://youtu.be/7maJOI3QMu0). Everyone’s voices instantly quiet down, and even the clattering of silverware and bustling in the kitchen comes to a halt. It was as if a spell had been cast upon the entire restaurant. Jaebum isn’t sure how much time pasts as Youngjae continues to play—each piece smoothly transitioning to the other.

 

Finally, Youngjae stands, mic in hand and a shy smile on his lips. “These next songs are titled [ _My Day_ ](https://youtu.be/J3K4bCbMPY4) and [ _Trauma_ ](https://youtu.be/eLB-7p4Y_lg) , both of which I have self-composed and written.” An instrumental starts up just as he finishes the sentence, before anyone can even react to his word. He begins to sing, voice wavering and unsure at first, before taking a complete 180 and Jaebum is completely and utterly _gone._ Youngjae looks absolutely [ ethereal ](https://twitter.com/staytune_YJ/status/820513441660055554) illuminated by the spotlight — voice as powerful as his piano playing and filled with heart-wrenching emotion — and Jaebum’s soul has officially left his body.

 

-

 

“You didn't even eat any of your food,” Youngjae quips once the performance is done. “Seokjin-hyung personally cooked it for you, you know? He'll be so disappointed.”

 

“S-sorry. I was… distracted,” Jaebum can feel his face heating up as he asks a passing waitress for to-go boxes. “Oh, I _know_.” Youngjae replies, eyes twinkling with mirth, “I’m glad you enjoyed the show, though.” He laughs timidly, “I messed up a couple of times, and I was really worried that you wouldn’t like it.”

 

“Are you crazy?” Jaebum blurts out, “It— _you_ were amazing. Everything about you is so amazing and _perfect_ , and it’s just not _fair_ because all I can think about is how much I want kiss you—” He abruptly stops, the weight of what he just said settling in as Youngjae stares at him with wide eyes. “Wait, I didn’t mean—well I _did_ mean it but, like, fuck. I’m really sorry—”

 

“ _Hyung,_ ” Youngjae interrupts, and Jaebum’s mouth immediately clamps shut. He expects the younger to yell at him, to hit him, to kick him out of the restaurant and tell him to stay the _hell_ away. What he doesn’t expect is for Youngjae to grin at him, that same twinkle in his eyes as he opens his mouth and says—

 

“I only kiss after the third date.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaebum nods, turning away slightly to check the caller ID. UNKNOWN NUMBER, the screen reads, and he frowns in confusion. Still, he shuffles a bit further away so that Youngjae’s out of hearing range, and presses ACCEPT. "Gotcha," a familiar voice sings mockingly, and Jaebum's blood runs cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to people who actually have consistent updates because my ass is always getting writer's block.

Jaebum isn’t quite sure how to label the relationship between him and Youngjae. They’ve been on five dates over the span of three months and, as promised, Youngjae had kissed him after the third date. It was short and sweet, and there weren’t any fireworks going off or the feeling of the world shifting into place, but it was enough. They kissed on their fourth and fifth date as well — this time a bit longer, and a bit more long _ing_ . Youngjae’s lips were soft and felt like the home Jaebum could never even dream of, and it was _more_ than enough. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask Youngjae the grand question of, “ _Are we boyfriends?_ ”

 

 _Have a little more faith_ , he’d tell himself, _Youngjae isn’t the type to kiss someone without meaning it._ But there was always the creeping feeling of uncertainty and fear that he couldn’t shake off, and it made him feel physically sick. He supposes this is karma for all the times he messed around in high school — for all the hearts he broke and the feelings he disregarded.

 

“Dude, just ask him out already.” Jaebum startles, turning to look at Mark, who continues to scroll through his phone. Right. Jaebum had come to the older for advice on what to do, which had lead to him having an existential crisis while Mark silently watched. “I can practically feel the anxiety emitting from you like waves. The world isn’t going to end just because he rejects you, you know? Not like he would, anyways.”

 

“How can you be so sure that he likes me back?”

 

“Oh, my _maker_ . How stupid can the two of you _be?_ I’m seriously going to go bald from stress — either that, or I’ll rip my own hair out.” Mark puts his phone down, grabbing Jaebum’s shoulders so hard that it almost hurts. “This is the last time I’m going to say it: Youngjae _loves_ you. But I can’t guarantee how long that’ll last if you keep this up. He thinks you’re losing interest in him.”

 

“ _Me?_ Losing interest in _him?_ That’s preposterous—”

 

“Which is _exactly_ why you should just man up and tell him how you feel already.” Mark interjects, shoving Jaebum towards the exit. “ _Please_ , before I die at a premature age from all of this.”

 

-

 

Jaebum watched as the lights within the restaurant went off one bye one, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands. “This was a bad idea,” he mumbles to himself, “I’m going to puke.”

 

“Are you sick?” Youngjae asks, seemingly materializing out of thin air. “Hyung, you shouldn’t have come if you aren’t feeling well.” Jaebum swallows down a squeak, and smiles at the younger. “I’m fine, Jae. Besides, even if I _was_ sick, I need to make sure you get home safe and sound.”

 

“Wow, my knight in shining armor.” Youngjae chuckles, eyes landing on the petals peeking out behind Jaebum’s back. “What are you hiding there, O’ Knight?”

 

Jaebum’s heart stutters as he opens his mouth to finally, _finally_ say what's been plaguing his mind for the past months and just as he shoved the bouquet forward— his phone rings. Loud and piercing in the silence of the night. He freezes, just like that, mouth half open and the bouquet still held out in front of him. The phone vibrates relentlessly in his pocket.

 

“...Are you going to pick it up?” Youngjae asks, and Jaebum allows himself to relax a little at the amused expression on the younger’s face. “Uh, yeah. Just give me a second, okay? Shit, I’m really sorry—”

 

“Just take the call, hyung,” Youngjae smiles, “It might be an emergency, considering how persistent they're being.”

 

Jaebum nods, turning away slightly to check the caller ID. _UNKNOWN NUMBER,_  the screen reads, and he frowns in confusion. Still, he shuffles a bit further away so that Youngjae’s out of hearing range, and presses _ACCEPT._   “Gotcha," a familiar voice sings mockingly, and Jaebum’s blood runs cold.

 

“ _Youngjae—!"_ he all but screams as he turns around, the phone and bouquet both long forgotten as he throws them to the floor. Youngjae is gone. Jaebum runs and runs and runs, shouting his name, eyes searching wildly at every alleyway and dark corner but Youngjae is _gone._ Where the fuck could they have taken him in such a small amount of time?

 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck—_ ”

 

“ _Jaebum!"_  Youngjae’s cry brings him back to reality, and he bolts towards the source of the voice. He spots three men— one of them has Youngjae pinned to the brick wall, hands wrapped around his throat and knee between his legs, while the other two watch with leering grins.

 

“Get your filthy hands _off_ of him!” Jaebum launches himself at one of the men, tackling him to the ground and the only thing on his mind is to kill, kill, _kill_ . Someone pulls out a knife and Jaebum doesn't even register the pain of it slicing his skin as twists around and stabs the person right back. _Kill, kill, kill_ . There’s so much blood and Jaebum doesn't even know who it belongs to anymore. _Kill, kill, kill_ . Jaebum faintly acknowledges the sound of sirens and flashes of red and blue, but Youngjae is sobbing and it only fuels his murderous intentions even further. _KILL KILL KILL KILL_ —

 

“ _JAEBUM, STOP!”_

 

-

 

“What the fuck were you thinking, Jaebum? Were you even thinking at all?”

 

“Mark, this really isn’t the right time to start lecturing me—”

 

“But that’s the thing about you, isn’t it? It’s never the right time for _anything_ .” Jaebum clamps his mouth shut, unable to deny the truth. Mark continues, his words piercing right through Jaebum, “What are you so _afraid of?”_

 

Jaebum doesn’t answer, a perturbed silence coming over the two of them. Mark takes a shaky breath, running his hands through his hair. “What if you hadn’t gotten to Youngjae in time? They could have taken him away for good. He could have _died_ —”

 

“I was _there_ —”

 

“But what if you _aren't_ there next time, Jaebum?! Then what?! You'll send bodyguards? You'll have someone keep an _eye on him_? We both know that it isn’t that easy— fuck— do you even _know_ what could possibly happen to him? Do you even fully understand the gravity of the situation?!”

 

“Of course I know!” Jaebum snaps, voice bouncing off the hospital walls, “But I can— _I will_ protect him. No matter what happens, I promise.”

  
Mark scoffs, venom lacing his words, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, _JB.”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark smiles something sinister, bringing his hand up to lay atop Jaebum’s, “There are a lot of things that you don’t know, Bummie. And you know what they say — curiosity killed the cat.”

Youngjae slowly blinks awake. The room is unnaturally bright, there's a steady beeping that is _definitely_ not coming from his alarm and — is that the taste of _blood_ in his mouth? He shoots up, before immediately falling back as a sudden wave of nausea washes over him. _A hospital_ , he realizes belatedly, _I’m in a hospital._

 

“So it wasn't just another bad dream…” He glances around the room, narrowing his eyes at the sight of an oddly familiar bouquet on the bedside table. “Have I been out long enough for someone to leave this here?” Propping himself up slightly, Youngjae reaches towards the flowers. There’s something… unsettling about them that he can't quite put his finger on. And that’s when he notices the note attached.

 

_‘I apologize for any physical injuries my men may have caused you. I had told them to just give you a good scare, but it appears that they got carried away._ ’ the note reads. Youngjae can’t help but let out a short titter because, hey, at least the person had the decency to apologize.

 

“Cheerful as always, I see.” Youngjae turns his head, mood instantly lifting as he beams at the person at in doorway.

 

“ _Jinyoung-hyung!”_

 

-

 

“You — what did you just call me?”

 

“What? Don't even remember your own codename anymore, _JB?_ Or have you gotten rusty over the past years?” Mark grunts as Jaebum shoves him, back slamming harshly against the wall. “Easy there, tiger. I’m not trying to pick a fight here.”

 

“How do you know that name?” Jaebum’s fists trembles around the collar of Mark’s shirt, knuckles turning white. “Who _are_ you, and what do you want?”

 

Mark smiles something sinister, bringing his hand up to lay atop Jaebum’s, “There are a lot of things that you don’t know, _Bummie_ . And you know what they say — _curiosity killed the cat_.”

 

Jaebum pulls away, reeling backwards as if he’d been electrocuted, and Mark falls unceremoniously onto the floor. A doctor arrives, then, and glances suspiciously at the two of them before announcing that Youngjae was now conscious. He rattles off the details of Youngjae’s condition, slipping in medical terms here and there that Jaebum does not understand nor bothers to ask about. Mark doesn't even seem to be listening, still sitting casually on the tiles with a bored expression.

 

“-and although his injuries are very minor, we would still prefer to have him remain hospitalized for at least a few more days in order to examine his mental health. It’s not required, though, so we’ve already informed him and are waiting for a response.” the doctor concludes. “Do either of you have any questions?”

 

“No—” Mark begins.

 

“What about the others?” Jaebum asks, “The ones who, uh…”

 

“They’re most likely going to die,” the doctor states bluntly, and then sighs, “You did quite a number on them. I’ve never seen you so… out of control before. Please try to not let things get so messy next time.” Jaebum nods guiltily, feeling slightly like a child being scolded. “Then, I’ll have to get going. Choi Youngjae is in room number one-thirty-one. You can press the call button in case anything happens.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

-

 

“That’s Doctor Park to you, young man,” Jinyoung teases, taking a seat next to the hospital bed. He scans the bruises littering Youngjae’s body, eyes softening. His voice is barely over a whisper as he gently cradles the younger’s bandaged cheek, “Who did this to you, ‘Jae?”

 

“I dunno, hyung,” Youngjae leans into the touch, shrugging, “But they left a note apologizing - pretty nice, right?” He chuckles lightly, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but Jinyoung’s frown only deepens. “You said you wouldn't be involved in that kind of stuff anymore.”

 

“And I’m not, I swear! I just— I—” Youngjae stumbles over his words, trying to find a proper explanation without ratting Jaebum out.

 

“Excuse me, Doctor Park?” a nurse knocks on the door, smiling warmly. “The patient in room number eighty-six is requesting to see you.” Jinyoung nods, giving Youngjae’s hand a firm squeeze before slipping away. “Thank you, I’ll go there right away.”

 

The nurse — _Yugyeom_ , his nametag says — shoots another smile before turning to follow Jinyoung out. Youngjae sighs, about to sink back into his bed when Jaebum comes barreling in with an ever-calm Mark in tow. “Nice to see you, too,” Youngjae jests as Jaebum nearly trips over his own feet. He glances over at Mark, quirking an eyebrow at the eldests’ rumpled appearance, who simply shakes his head. “ _Later,”_ he mouths, and Youngjae has no choice but to let it go.

 

“I was so worried about you,” Jaebum’s voice cracks, tears welling up in his eyes, “I’m so, so sorry I let this happen to you—”

 

“It’s not your fault—”

 

“Yes, it is. You don’t have to try to make me feel better by lying to me, because it only makes me feel worse. I knew something like this was bound to happen, considering my line of work, but I just didn’t expect it so soon. I shouldn’t have left you alone of even answered the damn phone call in the first place.”

 

“ _Jaebum_ —”

 

“I was foolish to think that I could ever be happy, when all I’ve ever done is bring misery and destruction to others.”

 

“What are you trying to say—”

 

“I think we should stop seeing each other.”

 

Youngjae breathes in sharply, and Mark eyes the spike in his heart beat monitor. “No,” he grits out, and Jaebum’s brows knit together in confusion. “Youngjae, don’t you realize how dangerous—”

 

“Don’t be such an idiot!” the words come out high-pitched and strangled, and Jaebum’s eyes widen in surprise at the outburst. “ _No shit,_ us being together is dangerous — you’re the son of a fucking _mafia boss_ . I could have easily decided to report you or just never acknowledge your existence again, but I _didn’t._ I gave you a chance and accepted who you were. I went on dates with you and kissed you. Hell, I think I might even be _falling in love_ you and— and—” Youngjae lets out a choked sob, harshly wiping away at his tears.

 

“Did all of it just mean _nothing_ to you? Is what we had not important enough for you to even _try_ to fight for?”

 

Suddenly, Jaebum’s vision tilts sideways as a hand roughly pushes him over. Everything sounds like white noise as Mark rushes past him, towards Youngjae’s convulsing form. The entire hospital bed shakes underneath the youngest and a flurry of doctors and nurses burst into the room. Jaebum vaguely feels someone hauling him up from the floor and out of the room, eyes never straying from the scene unfolding in front of him. The only word his muddle mind somehow manages to register before the door slams shut is—

 

— _seizure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did NOT end up the way I originally planned it to kjsdf I was just going to the end it on Youngjae being discharged but it somehow became this mess of emotions. I apologize.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just want to know if he's alright,” Jaebum blurts out before the doctor can even open his mouth. “I— I heard he had a seizure and…” he trails off, finding a sudden interest in counting the patterns on the carpet. The doctor just sighs.
> 
> “Pseudoseizure,” he corrects, and Jaebum’s head snaps back up.
> 
> “Excuse me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I added an extra paragraph to the previous chapter because I felt as if the ending was too abrupt. If you haven't read it already, the new ending was that Youngjae had a seizure — which will be explained in this chapter.
> 
> Also, this chapter will contain mentions of **sexual/physical abuse, death,** and **suicide** as well as a scene depicting **self harm**. It's nothing too graphic and the mentions are very brief, but I still wanted to put this warning here in case anyone got triggered. Thank you for your understanding

Three months.

 

Ever since the “incident” at the hospital, Jaebum had received nothing but radio silence from both Mark and Youngjae for three months. Neither of them would answer his texts or calls, Youngjae hadn't been coming to class, and their house was completely void of life (unless you count the potted succulents, but even those were slowly dying). Jaebum had even visited the hospital multiple times, despite being told that he wasn't allowed to visit Youngjae, to the point that he was banned from even being within a three-meter radius of the establishment. He had considered having his men infiltrate, but decided not to invade Youngjae’s privacy like that.

 

So, here he stood, face-to-face with the doctor that Youngjae was currently assigned to.

 

“I just want to know if he's alright,” Jaebum blurts out before the doctor can even open his mouth. “I— I heard he had a seizure and…” he trails off, finding a sudden interest in counting the patterns on the carpet. The doctor just sighs.

 

“Pseudoseizure,” he corrects, and Jaebum’s head snaps back up.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Youngjae had a pseudoseizure, also known as a psychogenic nonepileptic seizure or PNES for short. Unlike epileptic seizures, PNES do not result from an abnormal electrical discharge from the brain, but are rather a physical manifestation of a psychological disturbance,” the doctor speaks slowly, gouging Jaebum’s reaction. “A specific traumatic event, such as physical or sexual abuse, death of a loved one, or other great loss or sudden change, is often identified in patients with PNES. Youngjae had been diagnosed at a very young age, but he hasn't had a pseudoseizure in so many years that the aftermath is much greater than anything else we’ve dealt with in the past.”

 

A beat of silence passes as the words sink in, and the doctor watches Jaebum’s expression twist painfully as the realisation dawns upon him. “Was it—?” Jaebum chokes up, burying his face in his hands in an attempt to hide the tears threatening to spill. The doctor seems to understand nonetheless, and answers with pitiless honesty.

 

“Whatever you had said to him that day either triggered a memory of a past traumatic event, or put him in a situation of extreme psychological stress — which then triggered the pseudoseizure.” He pauses, eyes flickering to something behind Jaebum, “Now that you understand this, please don’t ever show your face around here again.”

 

-

 

“You have to eat your meal, ‘Jae,” Mark says softly, holding the spoonful of rice to Youngjae’s mouth. “That way, you can take your medicine and then all the pain will go away. You want the pain to go away, don't you?”

 

Youngjae stares blankly at the food, and slowly turns his gaze to Mark, who smiles patiently in return. After a few minutes, the younger finally opens his mouth, and Mark carefully feeds him. After only two spoonfuls in, Youngjae abruptly reaches out. Mark halts his movements, thinking that the spoon is about to be slapped out of his hand again. But, to his surprise, Youngjae gingerly takes the utensil out of Mark’s hand and dips it back into the bowl, trying to eat on his own accord. 

 

Mark laughs, then, almost instead of crying, as he watches the other’s hands tremble with effort. Youngjae glances at him briefly, before turning his attention back to the food. And if a few tears end up trailing down Mark’s face, Youngjae is kind enough not to mention it.

 

-

 

It takes another month and a half for Youngjae to be able to eat normally on his own and, within the same period, he begins to verbally respond as well. His words come out jumbled and nearly incomprehensible, as if he was learning to speak for the first time (and, in a way, he is). But progress is progress. Some days, Youngjae can say an entire sentence and eat two bowls of rice. Some days, all he can manage are small gurgles and throws a pillow at the poor nurse who tries to bring him food. Some days, he completely breaks down, sobbing hysterically and destroying whatever is in his reach.

 

_ Including himself, _ Mark discovers one day. There's the sound of glass shattering and Mark immediately springs out of his seat, into Youngjae’s bathroom. A scream rips through the air, and Mark doesn't know if it's his or Youngjae’s as he knocks a large shard of glass from the other’s hand. Youngjae whimpers, trying to tug away from Mark’s grip and that’s when the older notices the angry slashes carved into his arms. Mark’s heart stutters at the sight, frozen in place as his eyes trace the lines that vaguely look like letters.

 

By the time he snaps out of it, Mark is sitting in an empty waiting room, staring at the crimson dripping from his hands. And he wonders just how many more times Youngjae’s blood will spill until the poor boy can finally be  _ happy. _

 

-

 

“You look like a corpse that escaped from the morgue.” Jaebum snorts, loading his gun.

 

“Thanks, pops.”

 

“I’m serious, Jaebum. When was the last time you slept? Or ate?”

 

“So, who’s the target today?”

 

“ _ Jaebum—” _ Mr. Im begins, exasperated. 

 

“ _ Dad,”  _ Jaebum says back mockingly.

 

Mr. Im sighs, swiping the gun from Jaebum’s hand before the other can protest. “You're not working today.” He pats him down, finding a second gun by his ankle, and yet another gun tucked behind him. “Really? What do need  _ three  _ guns for? You only have two hands.”

 

Jaebum shrugs, “Better safe than sorry,” he replies.

 

Mr. Im steps back as two burly men seize Jaebum by the arms, dragging him out the door. “Rest up, kid.” Mr. Im calls out, and Jaebum just grunts in response, not even bothering to struggle as his body sags with every step. If he didn't know any better, he'd think his father somehow drugged him (and he supposes he wouldn't be surprised if that really was the case).

 

-

 

Youngjae squints, trying to focus his eyes on the figure hovering beside him, scribbling furiously into a notepad. “N...young…?” The pencil lead snaps, and Jinyoung looks over with a kind smile.

 

“How are you feeling, ‘Jae?”

 

“Ug..h...ugh…”

 

“That's alright, don't try to force yourself to speak if you can’t.” Jinyoung placed his notepad down, and gently takes Youngjae’s hand in his. “I’m going to ask you a series of yes or no questions, and i want you to squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no. Do you understand?”

 

Youngjae gives a weak squeeze.

 

“Good. Now, do you feel any physical pain or discomfort as of this moment?”

 

Two squeezes.

 

“Were you able to feel the pain when you were slicing into your own skin?”

 

Two squeezes.

 

“Did you feel as if you had no control over your body as all of it happened?”

 

Two squeezes.

 

“Were you consciously aware of your actions while you did it?”

 

One squeeze.

 

“Did you… have any other intentions opposed to just self mutilation? For instance…” Jinyoung pauses, voice straining, “Did you intend to kill yourself?”

 

Youngjae stills, eyes boring into Jinyoung’s and the older resists the urge to look away.

 

One squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a person who suffers from PNES, I mostly wrote the scenes relating to Youngjae based on my own experiences. I remember having a pseudoseizure after about 2 or 3 years of being stabilized, and it took me nearly an entire year to recover from the repercussions. During that time period, I had difficulty speaking, eating, and basically doing anything properly on my own, and would also have sudden violent outbursts. (But I'm doing much better now! So don't worry, haha)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, it doesn't have to be this way,” Jackson murmurs one night, in the darkness of the living room.
> 
> Jaebum watches the credits rolling on the TV screen, lights dancing across his face in a way that accentuates the dips and shadows of his face. It makes him look older than he is, brings out the exhaustion of the long, yet short, years that he's endured. “No, it doesn’t.” Jaebum says when the screen fades to black, “But I made it this way. And you can’t change the past.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I HAVE RISEN FROM MY GRAVE. School started a few weeks ago, so don't be surprised if I just disappear off the face of earth at random intervals.
> 
> Also 1) There's a timeskip of a month or so between each scene
> 
> 2) I'm uploading this on my phone, so I'm sorry if the format is wonky

Mark — as he watches the blood seeping through Youngjae’s bandages — later on learns that the letters carved into his skin spell out, _SORRY_. The word takes up almost the entirety of the younger’s forearm, and it makes Mark’s skin itch just from looking at it. “Doc says the cuts are really deep,” Youngjae says when he catches Mark staring. His voice is uncharacteristically monotone, eyes dull as he picks at a loose bandage. “It’ll most likely leave permanent scars, even if I tried to get it covered up or removed.”

 

“It's nothing to be ashamed of,” Mark murmurs quietly. And then, louder, he adds, “The scars, everything that came before it, and whatever may come afterwards — you shouldn't ever be ashamed of anything.”

 

Youngjae blinks owlishly, seemingly shocked at the words, before the smallest hint of a smile graces his features. “Thank you, hyung. You always know what to say.”

 

“Of course,” Mark chuckles, and Youngjae can’t help the but notice the bitterness behind it. “What kind of friend would I be, if I couldn't even do so much as this?”

 

-

 

“Jaebum, please get out of bed.”

 

“That's Jaebum- _hyung_ to you, Wang.” Jaebum chides, voice muffled from the cocoon of blankets he's wrapped himself in.

 

“Okay, _hyung_ , if you don't get up right now, I'll give Nora away to that crazy cat lady across the street.” Jackson threatens, and the feline meows in agreement. Jaebum immediately shoots up at that, struggling to unravel himself from his blanket prison. “Don't you _dare,_ Wang Jiaer Jackson! I’ll feed you to the fishes!”

 

Jackson shrieks, barely escaping the room as Jaebum reaches out to grab him by the neck. “Don't forget to freshen up, hyung!” he calls back cheerily, “You smell like ass!”

 

Jaebum huffs angrily, but makes his way to the shower nonetheless. The water is scalding hot, to the point where it feels almost cool on his skin, as he scrubs a week's worth of grime off. It only takes a few minutes to clean himself, but Jaebum remains in the shower for another hour, scrubbing his skin until it hurts. He takes one last look at the droplets of blood in the water, and decides that this is enough for today.

 

(Distantly, Jaebum wishes he could get rid of the guilt crawling up and under his skin.)

 

-

 

“Hyung,” Youngjae calls, as Mark is filling out the last of the hospital discharge forms, “Let’s get a puppy.”

 

There’s a stretched out silence as Mark scribbles away on the papers, and Youngjae is about to repeat himself when the older looks up. “Are you sure?” he asks, finally.

 

“Yes, of course! I’ll be taking online courses from now on, right? And our jobs are always at different halves of the day, so there'll always be someone at home!”

 

“I’m glad you're so enthusiastic about this, but what about your fur allergy—”

 

“I did some research, actually. I was even thinking about getting hairless dog — do those even exist? Anyways, I don't think a hairless dog would be very pleasant to pet, no offense, so I was looking for short-haired dogs that don't shed that much.”

 

“...And?”

 

Youngjae beams, practically leaping out of his seat as he shoves his phone under Mark’s nose. “ _And,_ I came across this cute little Maltese! His name is Heart and he's in that pet shop just a few blocks from our house!!”

 

 _You're already a puppy_ , Mark wants to say. “I’ll think about it,” he grumbles instead, and Youngjae might as well be glowing at this point as joy seems to radiate off his very being. It appears that they both already know what the answer is.

 

“Thanks, hyung!” Youngjae places a wet kiss on Mark’s cheek, and the older can’t even bring himself to _pretend_ that he doesn't like it. “You're the best.”

 

He ruffles Youngjae’s hair in return, and smiles softly. “Anything for you, ‘Jae.”

 

-

 

“You know, it doesn't have to be this way,” Jackson murmurs one night, in the darkness of the living room.

 

Jaebum watches the credits rolling on the TV screen, lights dancing across his face in a way that accentuates the dips and shadows of his face. It makes him look older than he is, brings out the exhaustion of the long, yet short, years that he's endured. “No, it doesn’t.” Jaebum says when the screen fades to black, “But I made it this way. And you can’t change the past.”

 

Only a faint outline of Jaebum’s figure is visible in the dark, but Jackson can see the way he shrinks into himself — as if trying to disappear all together. The strong and admirable man that Jackson once knew was no more. Or, perhaps, Jaebum had never truly been who he portrayed himself to be. Aloof, stubborn, harsh, unmerciful — they weren’t aspects of _Jaebum_ , they never were and never will be. No, that was JB; the heir to a mafia, the ruthless killer, the one with blood staining his hands and lives weighing down on his shoulders like anchors.

 

And this, right in front of Jackson — _this_ was Jaebum. Jaebum; the one who saved him from the streets, the one who treated him like his own brother, the one who loved nature and animals and tooth-rottingly sweet treats and _never wanted to live the life of JB._ There was blood on his hands, yes, but it was more his own than anyone else’s.

 

“And now what?” Jackson spits out, and his angered tone catches Jaebum off guard. “You’re just going to sit back and let this continue? You’re not even going to _try_ to make things better?”

 

“Jacks—”

 

“ _It doesn't have to be like this_ ,” the younger repeats, a fire in his eyes. “You may be unable to change the past, but you sure as hell can change the present.”

 

-

 

“What should we name him?” Youngjae asks eyeing the puppy cradled in Mark’s arms. It slept soundly, despite being jostled by the speed they were walking at.

 

“He’s really white, so…” Mark frowns, trying to think of something, “Ssalttuk?”

 

Youngjae scrunches up his nose, “Hyung, that sounds like a country girl’s name.”

 

“Well, what do _you_ suggest we name him?”

 

“Hmm. How about— _ugh_.” Youngjae stumbles slightly from the impact of Mark’s back, “Hyung, you can’t just suddenly stop walking like.. that…” He trails off, the words dying at his lips as he stares at the familiar figure standing in front of his home.

 

“J—”

  
“We need to talk, Youngjae. Right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ssalttuk means ricecake, in case anyone was wondering. And if you get the GOT2DAY reference; you a real one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I saw Jaebum heading towards your house,” Jinyoung finally says, “I— was scared that he might do something to you, so I thought it was better for us to get out of there before he could show up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with more Suffering™

“Jinyoung-hyung, seriously, where are you taking me?” Youngjae yelps, nearly hitting his head on the car roof as the elder shoves him into the passenger seat. “Why can’t we just talk here?!”

 

“It’s dangerous,” Jinyoung states curtly as he starts the ignition, and it only confuses Youngjae even further. “Dangerous?” he repeats, “Hyung, I don’t know what’s going on but, you know that once we stepped inside the house, we would have—”

 

“ _No_ ,” Jinyoung practically growls out the word, and Youngjae shuts his mouth with an audible snap, turning to look back at Mark’s figure rapidly disappearing as Jinyoung steps harder on the gas pedal. Tension hangs thickly in the air, and almost feels like a physical weight atop their shoulders. “Listen,” Youngjae nearly jumps out of his skin when Jinyoung speaks up. “I didn’t mean to act so roughly towards you. It’s just that I— he—” Jinyoung let's out a frustrated sigh, and Youngjae can feel the panic slowly creeping up on him. He’s only ever seen Jinyoung lose his composure three times his entire life, and for something to cause him to be like this must be critical.

 

“I saw Jaebum heading towards your house,” Jinyoung finally says, “I— was scared that he might do something to you, so I thought it was better for us to get out of there before he could show up.”

 

Youngjae opens his mouth, wanting to just laugh at the absurdity of it all, but instead lets out a strangled noise from the back of his throat. There’s no way Jaebum would want to purposely harm him, right? This has to be some practical joke, right? _Right?_ But the look in Jinyoung’s eyes is dead serious, and that’s never been a good sign. “Hyung, what do you mean?”

 

Jinyoung stops the car in an empty parking, and Youngjae wonders just exactly how much time has passed as he notices the sun beginning to sink below the horizon. “Youngjae, I… I think it’s about time I tell you what kind of person Jaebum truly is, and how I even know him in the first place.

 

-

 

“I’m asking you where he is,” Jaebum snaps, taking a step closer to Mark. Jackson watches from the parked car, taking note of how Jaebum’s chin juts out with anger. This could end poorly.

 

“And _I’m_ telling _you_ that I don't know!” Mark says back, visibly annoyed. “Look, how about we head inside? My dick is gonna freeze off if we stand out here any longer, and I can’t feel my fucking arms.” The dog squirms in his hold, yapping in agreement. Jaebum blinks, momentarily stunned by Mark’s profanity, as well as the dog staring up at them.

 

“Yeah,” Jaebum agrees stiffly, “Okay. Let’s do that. But if you’re not telling the truth about Youngjae—”

 

 _“Whatever,”_ Mark groans, fishing out the house keys.

 

Jackson’s eyes widen, scrambling out of the car as the other two make their way inside. “Wait, don’t leave me out here!” he screeches, jogging towards them, “I don’t like being alone!!”

 

-

 

Youngjae stares at Jinyoung blankly, dread creeping up on him. “What kind of person… he really is?” he repeats, and Jinyoung breaks the eye contact, sighing. “I should have told you as soon I found out you had a— _connection_ with him. But you seemed so happy and I thought— maybe he had finally changed.” The words come out halting, unsure, and Youngjae resists the urge to yell out for Jinyoung to just _spit it out already._ “Jaebum and I… we used to be partners, back when we were in high school and you were still in middle school. Do you remember? How I would sometimes mention him to you? You guys met a few times before too, when all three of us would go on a mission together.”

 

Youngjae’s breath hitches, the memories he tried so hard to run from finally catching up to him. “You— Are you talking about—?” He doesn't want to say it, that godforsaken codename, but Jinyoung just silently watches him, urging him to continue talking. “Jaebum was JB.” It’s not a question, but Youngjae still searches for an answer in other’s expression. “Jaebum still _is_ JB.” Jinyoung corrects quietly, gently wiping away tears that Youngjae hadn’t even realized he shed.

 

“I poked my nose around and found out that he was one who sent those three men to attack you that night.”

 

“What? That can’t be possible. He— he _killed_ them. Why would he go as far as to kill his own henchmen? What was he trying to gain?”

 

“Your trust.” Jinyoung responds simply. “JB doesn’t care about his henchmen, never has, and we both know that. He was trying to gain as much of your trust and love as he could, so that he could bring you crashing down even harder.”

 

“I don’t— why now, after so long? After almost five years? Wasn’t what happened with the rest of my family not enough? How much more damage does he plan to do before he’s satisfied?” Youngjae was sobbing heavily now, faced pressed into Jinyoung’s shoulder and words barely coherent. It just didn’t any make sense and yet, at the same time, all the pieces seemed to come together. “I feel like such an _idiot._ I didn’t even recognize him the slightest bit when I saw him again in my first year of university. And it’s been nearly three years since!”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Jinyoung soothes, “I don’t want you to beat yourself up over this, okay? You’ve already been through enough.” He pulls away enough to hold Youngjae’s gaze, and slowly cups the younger’s face. “I’m going to try and resolve this, even if it means sacrificing myself. And I want you to know that you don’t have to suffer in silence. I’m here for you, ‘Jae, I always have been, and I always will be.”

 

Youngjae nods, tears dying down, and buries his face in the crook of Jinyoung’s neck in an embrace. The elder chuckles, and allows Youngjae to recollect himself. There’s a brief moment of silence, before Youngjae is suddenly sitting up straight, expression alarmed.

 

“Mark is by himself! What if something happens with Jaebum?!”

  
Jinyoung inhales sharply, _“Shit.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a note before (that I have now deleted) and I've ?? never felt so happy??? Thank you so much to all the people who commented on it, you guys are my main source of motivation ❤❤❤

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/daonviews?s=09) or [tumblr](https://1238-66.tumblr.com)!


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